Kimi B.

I had a loving family growing up. We were all close. It was a wonderful environment. We lived right next door to my grandparents, and loved every minute. My sisters and I were very much like a modern day ‘Little House on the Prairie’ story. The family farm had only other farms for neighbors, and they never bothered anyone. We were free to roam the property at all hours of the day, all of us, including our parents, sure that we were perfectly safe anywhere we roamed.

Then, one morning in June, my sister and I decided to race out to the garden near the back of the property to pick some strawberries. She wanted to take out a 3-wheeler, and waited for Dad while I ran ahead, barefooted in my sundress, without a care in the world–like any other soon-to-be second grader. As I made the corner into the garden, I was nearly knocked down by an older boy that I did not know standing in the middle of our field.

He wasn’t supposed to be there. No one was supposed to be there. I told him my sister was on her way, and to leave me alone. He held me down, and covered my mouth with his dirty hand. I kicked, and screamed, and tried to bite. I hit him and pinched him trying to get him to let me up so I could really hurt him. I didn’t understand what he was trying to do, but I knew it was bad.

Then, by some miracle, my sister and my dad came down the trail on the 3-wheeler. He jumped up & hid in the bushes at the property line–or maybe he ran… I can’t be sure since I ran straight for my dad and  just wanted to go back to the house. I was covered in dirt, muddy, and crying tears of frustration and shame. Dad was worried about me and took me straight home. My sister was confused  and scared.

As soon as I got in the house I ran into the shower and would not come out. As it turned out, my dad and my sister had seen the boy but didn’t know for sure what had (or had not) happened. My parents were scared. I was ashamed and angry. Who the hell was this person anyhow? Who was he to come onto our home and hurt me? Why couldn’t I hit him any harder than I did? How could I be so weak?

My folks asked me what happened. Wanted me to explain in detail. I tried my best, but was ashamed that I didn’t defend myself so I lied about some of the details, trying to assure them that I was OK. They never called anyone. They never told anyone. They just didn’t know what to do.

I was afraid to go out alone. Even to the backyard, or next door to my grandparents. My parents knew something was wrong, but didn’t know how to approach it. I tried to get tough. Dared myself to go out alone, a little further every time, but never again without a weapon. I would be ready next time. A baseball bat, a garden hoe, stick, bb gun.

Then, my grandfather noticed I was always carrying something. He asked if I was afraid to run into someone while I was on the farm. I told him I was, and he empowered me. He was in the Navy during WWII, a member of the Scouts & Raiders. He taught me how to defend myself that summer. Taught me how to incapacitate anyone that tried to harm me. I can still hear him when that shiver runs up my spine when you’re in a dangerous situation–just punch them in the throat, hard as you can. If it doesn’t kill them, you’ll at least be able to run. When I was 10, he taught me to shoot. I owe all of my sass and confidence to him.

It seems like once you’ve had a bad experience, they tend to pop up again later in life. I have been attacked no less than four times since high school. All of the altercations ended with one of my grandfather’s lessons being used.

It took me years to think that I’d go beyond that day in the field. It could have been worse, I know that. But, if it wasn’t for the lessons afterward from my grandfather, any one of the other altercations that went down during high school or college might have been far, FAR worse.

I encourage every woman to learn to defend yourself. Don’t rely on pepper spray or whistles. Learn to cause them the kind of pain that they would inflict on you if they’re given the chance. Take a class, learn Tae Kwon Do, and keep those lessons in the forefront of your mind. Practice them until you know you can use them without running through your mind what you need to do.

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Kimi B. blogs at Never a Dull Moment.

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